


Lies He Says

by Nevermore_red



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sandor is a liar, gingers, inner musings, season 7 episode 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:26:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Sandor Clegane hates lies. Especially ones he tells himself.





	Lies He Says

All Sandor's life he'd been surrounded by liars. His father was a liar. His brother was a liar. More than likely his mother had been a liar as well. 

Once he'd been burnt and started working for the Lannister's he met even more liars. 

The first man he'd put a sword through when he was only a child had spewed lies before his heart met Sandor's blade.

He had learned early on the signs when someone was lying. It was in their eyes, their posture, a small tilt of a head or a glance elsewhere. It was something he was good at, detecting lies. It helped him navigate the ring of hell that was Kings Landing. 

Sandor himself rarely lied. Only when it benefited him, or saved his head from an executioners block. He prided himself on telling it like it was with little exception for people's tender feelings. It made him feel separate from all the liars in the world.

The worst lies, however, were lies he told himself. Over the years he'd often tried to tell himself that fire no longer bothered him. He told himself that Gregor no longer had any hold over him. He told himself that a pretty face and sweet chirping didn't affect him.

Sansa Stark was the source of most of the lies he told himself. She annoyed him. Infuriated him. He was disgusted by her naivety and innocence. He didn't care that she married the half man or the Bolton bastard. The whispers of what Ramsay had done to her during their short marriage didn't fill him with a killing rage. She didn't fill a significant amount of his waking thoughts and she didn't intrude on his dreams nightly.

Sandor wasn't all that stupid. He did know those were lies. He just didn't like dwelling on the truth of the matter.

What he hadn't realized was a lie he kept telling himself was about hating gingers. It wasn't a lie, exactly. He did hate gingers. Every person he'd met since leaving Kings Landing that had that burnished shade of hair pissed him off. Especially the big Wildling. The lie, however, was in his reasoning for hating them.

It always called to memory her. How the Kings Landing sun would catch in the shimmering locks of her hair. How it had spilled over her naked shoulder when Joffrey had her stripped. How it would fall from her elaborate do's when Blounts fist landed against her stomach or Trants blade met her back.

It reminded him how it was a similar shade to her blood as it trickled down pale skin, or soaked into her bedding after her first moons blood. Sometimes it put into mind how soft her red locks had been when he had touched it the night the Blackwater burned with his knife pressed to her throat. 

The truth of the matter was it reminded him of her. And remembering her was to remember all the ways he'd failed her. Tormund was a walking reminder of that even if he was nothing like the little bird. Perhaps it was made worse by Snow being there, another link back to the pretty Stark girl that made him question everything and feel things he wasn't sure how to handle. 

It was a truth he fought against. The fact that he didn't hate gingers at all, just the memories they envoked. In fact, it was ginger hair he dreamed about alongside fire. A shade of color he wished he could run his fingers through again, this time without benefit of a blade to her skin. 

A part of him couldn't wait to get to Kings Landing. To throw this living dead fucker at the feet of Cersei Lannister just to see her reaction. A part of him couldn't wait for the war that was coming. Fighting and killing were enough to distract him from all the lies he didn't want to be bothered with.

Another part of him hoped Snow would want to stop at Winterfell before heading further south. Surely he'd want to check on his home and men after being gone so long. And his little bitch sister had come back while he was gone, along with his crippled brother. Perhaps he'd like to see them before moving on to Kings Landing. 

Sandor didn't care much about the little wolf bitch, or the broken boy. His mind was on the elder Stark sister and how much time had passed since he last laid eyes on her. It was one lie he didn't tell himself. That he ached to look upon her one last time before he died. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been gone so long! I've missed you all and I've missed writing SanSan so much. 
> 
> The shows been annoying me. I dislike the storyline that they're trying to do with Sansa and Arya. I find myself hating Dany more and more each episode and I'm really hoping they don't add any more incest, even accidental incest. But it looks like they are. Ugh. 
> 
> Anyway. Aside from my growing dislike of the show, I greatly enjoy the wonderful banter between Tormund and Sandor. It's great and I hope there's more to come from them. And I needed to write something to make myself feel better. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
